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With Goal in the  mind
you focus your card,  
Forgetting days nights
and working so hard,

What ever has come in
the target your way,
You have always strived
to keep it at bay.

Resources are albeit
but skimpy and low.
You Seldom get worry
and never  you bow.

While eating and moving
or going for walk,
You put your attention
on measures you talk.

Virtues that you own
not common in mass,
Seldom are found and  
tough to surpass.

Perhaps  is the reason
why I have regard,
Your focus certainly
deserves this reward.

But often  I doubt
your fire your zeal,
Queries comes to mind
this what I feel.

Is it your passion that
makes you work hard?
Or Else is pushing you
jumping the  yard?

Since I have also seen
a victim  a prey,
In forest jumps hard
when  lion on way.

Just see if guilt,Fear ,
doubt and remorse?
are not controlling
your action of course?

Ajay Amitabh Suman
All Rights Reserved
The kind of decision you take in your life,  determines the kind of life you're destined for? Is it more important to enhance your phoney ego or to have job satisfaction in your life? What do you prefer: looking at others or working on improving yourself? Between obsession and passion, what should you choose? It's absolutely your decision what to decide.
Once there was a man
Neither rich nor very poor
He was a workaholic
But also a habitual drinker!

He used to drink regularly
Mostly at night
Sometimes, in a bar
Sometimes, at his home
Sometimes, with his friends
And sometimes alone

He was a father, husband and a son
But he never showed them affection, love and emotion

At one bad day
He drank throughout the night
Returned home very late
And with his wife, he had an ugly fight

He abused and slapped her too
His kids tried to give her a shed(protection)
And pushed that man away
But by that push, he got a wound on his forehead

He became more angry
And picked a sharp knife
Stabbed his own little kids
And ended their lives

Stepped out from his own home
But fell down at door
He slept that night, very relaxed
In the morning till four

Woke up and entered inside
He called his wife and kids
Saw dead bodies of his kids and wife
And he realized his yesterday's deeds

Then he cried loud and thought to end his life
Cut his own artery with that same blooded knife

That night, an alcoholic ended a family
But, by his deeds, humanity declined
Like, every single moment in our society
Alcohol is murdering the mankind. . .
Syreena Phelps Jan 2021
Hi, you have reached the voicemail box of Syreena Phelps. I am either working, sleeping, or too depressed to answer the phone. Leave your name, number, and a reason for me to live, and I'll get back to you as soon as I am mentally able. Thanks!
I'm trying to come up with a voicemail right now, & I can't seem to do it.
Saurya Jan 2021
Between judging the good and the dead,
I lose myself in the cacophony of lies, made my men,
Amid the hustling and jostling of interests, lies and deceit
I scream!
my voice is muffled by a black cloth,
which covered eyes of Themis, now unfurled, tied my voice,
So, none can hear, my cries,
I am a man, I have a spirit, my bliss cannot live in lies and deceit!

I lose myself, split of a second,
A place where I find solace for my heart,
Split second of servitude for God,
And that is enough! To lead me away from temptations!
I look at men in blood, fresh, for petty wealth, and I see God!
I look at black coats, standing for Good and evil for wealth, and I see God!
Who am I to judge?
I see and witness unfurling of time, and my mind rests at His foot!
For all is lights and shadow!
I am at peace, being a witness of His work.
Om Tat Sat!

© Saurya 7th Jan 21
I wrote my emotions, having received an acknowledgement of my one liner, "so true, manifesting good thoughts by a judge" I ponder, as we trapped in worldly struggle, still find time to love and pray, and think good for others! what is it if not a 'prayer', and that split second of bliss, makes us see all as God, and self as witness, where happiness is in servitude!
Some imagination Dec 2018
I like being busy
There's no surprise in that,
It's the only way to survive and make the voices quiet that argue in my head.
I like being busy
It's the only way I've known,
To burry down those feelings
That keep on surfacing on their own.
I like being busy
I enjoy being burnt out
Because that's how I muffle the agony from the bleeding cut.
I don't want a moment of silence
Because that's when
The voices in my head are
The loudest.
They Mourne, they agonize, they miss,
They sympathize.
And then all I have is this burning feeling which is
The darkest.
Lost Girl Dec 2018
Trapped inside her mind.
There are a million different doors.
All of them are locked.
None of them can fix her catastrophic thoughts.  

Only she knew the extent of her limitations.
But she didn't want to disappoint, so she kept on doing more.
All these tasks pushed her past her breaking point.

Little did she know,
Kindness was the poison rooted deep inside in her mind.

All alone.
There she goes.
Watch her soul float away.
Now she no longer feels any pain.
Miss Saitwal Jul 2018
That workaholic lady who's always on call,
keeping up with the market fall.
That newly married lady with chunky red bangles,
returning to her father's big castles.

That person who's scared to get lapse,
so stays active on the google maps.
That person who swings like a kid at the back door,
Or the one who perform calisthenics on an empty floor.

That next door girl with a red lipstick,
flicking her shinny hair & gossiping with her clique,

That dreamer gazing outside the window,
That overworked soul dozing on his elbow.

That 21st century kid,
listening to Eminem & playing video games.
Or That 90’s kid,
listening to Jenga Boys & playing outdoor games.

That banker with a big fat stomach,
filled with his beautiful wife’s love.
That lady who eats like a thief,
in her big fat bag hiding a beef.

That old man who can’t stand Bombay's winding turns.
That granny spotting & criticing  every fashion trends.
That man who has Raju Rastogi’s concerns,
thinking & chanting for earns & returns.

Those kids who believe their job is to fill the voids in a battlefield,
in the still crowd surpassing like electrons into a magnetic field.

That lady sitting under cold seat like a glacial,
than standing with 7kgs in a crowded central,
& tryna stay sane listening to George Michael.

That geek who switchs from Linkedin to Arjun Reddy,
when the masses flee into the scenery.
That trader crunching numbers so rapidly,
when the stock prices go down hourly.

That person on the last seat,
diagressing from work & gazing around,
soaking in her pashmina, with a career newfound.
Isabelle Sep 2017
Tonight i'm so tired
That i let out a loooooonngg sigh
And let a tear fall
A haiku because im starting to reach my limit. Let it out, write it down.
Remi Leroy Apr 2017
Sheets of white piling up on my desk
Red alerts with red flags flooding my mail
The little ping, ping, ping of incoming messages from various correspondents
Demanding my attention

"You should learn to say no; stop doing everything by yourself."

Once, my insides would clench and I'd feel like I'd been
Kicked in the shin whenever I see something that reminds me of you
But now, search as I might, I can no longer see your face
Even down memory lane, you've vanished as suddenly as you did in reality

Other events flow like running water, with the clarity of a clear lake
Yet when I try to recall the words you said
It was as if a mischievous kid decided to mess with the tap
On; off. On... off. On... off. On; off.
A buffering in my mind like chopped up notes of a song when a video wouldn't load properly
1991. 9893. 0306. 162. 0341. Numbers are all I remember.
How did
Your smile look like?
How did your voice
Sound like?

I stare at the excel sheet I've been populating
I stare at the values I've been entering
One after another, work requests come
One after another, the traces of you go
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